


prelude, op. 28: no. 15

by paltandsepper



Category: Day6 (Band)
Genre: Comfort, Drabble, Fluff, M/M, no beta we die like men, word vomit :o
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-13
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:07:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25884076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paltandsepper/pseuds/paltandsepper
Summary: wonpil focused on the gentle caress on his head, fingers barely slipping between the spaces of each lock of hair, sometimes lightly brushing against his ear.
Relationships: Kim Wonpil/Yoon Dowoon
Kudos: 25





	prelude, op. 28: no. 15

**Author's Note:**

> it's 4:30 in the morning here and i spent i think 3 hours binge watching yt videos until i cried on one last video. i just had to write what i just felt and thought after those 3 hours. ngl i fell asleep in the middle of typing but i woke up again and finished this small thing. my moon is making my emotions go wheeew. realized once again holding your own hand is nice.
> 
> as i end this MY SLEEP TIMER FOR MY SPOTIFY ENDED AND I WAS SUPPOSED TO BE ASLEEP BY NOW OK gtg

wonpil has been feeling weird for quite some time but he had managed to push it in the back of his mind until he ended up watching videos late at night. he couldn't stop watching and looking for more videos until he just felt overwhelmed by a video, tears flowed out of his left eye, pooling on the cushion of the throw pillow as the right eye starts joining in on making a mess. wonpil sighed after the video ended because it shows a much lighter side, a lighter ending, rather than the heavy meaning conveyed by words and the setting of the place. he lay there staring at the ceiling until he realized that he can't fall asleep.

after turning off the lamp, wonpil is hugged by the darkness, he felt around in the hallway to the bedroom. sighing in relief as he wraps his hand around the doorknob and turns it slowly, not to bother the person probably sleeping under the covers. wonpil blinked a few times after seeing the lamp on the nightstand still on and dowoon's still on his tablet, probably watching a gameplay, he smiles as he shook his head. their sleep pattern truly had been a wreck.

wonpil made his way to his side of the bed and carefully crawled up until he can rest his head on dowoon's stomach, he tried to squeeze a hand under dowoon but to no avail. he lay there until dowoon turned off his tablet and put a hand on his back, rubbing as if he already knows what's happening. but he doesn't, so wonpil wracks his brain to compose what to say when dowoon asks.

“you okay?”

wonpil shakes his head from side to side, “no.”

“why?” dowoon switches to petting his hair instead, making wonpil close his eyes and a tear rolled down the side of his face, absorbed by the shirt dowoon's wearing.

wonpil forgot to answer and focused on the gentle caress on his head, fingers barely slipping between the spaces of each lock of hair, sometimes lightly brushing against his ear. the still sound of the quiet room paired with the slightest sound of leaves barely being rustled by the small swoop of wind, wonpil can faintly hear the piano pieces he listens to while he studies early in the morning. dowoon's hand never ceased and he didn't move, letting wonpil lay on him. he listens to the comforting sound of breathing while feeling the rise and fall of dowoon's stomach each time he inhales and exhales, rocking him, effectively lulling wonpil to sleep.

before he falls into a deep sleep, he finally knew what he was feeling. loneliness. a familiar feeling after spending years of being trampled under that feeling if he doesn't sleep at eleven in the evening or when he leaves his dorm or when he walks down the streets full of color and life. wonpil had long accepted this feeling yet it was hard to describe his loneliness, whether it was a good or bad thing.

wonpil finally moves when he felt dowoon shift slightly in his position, he lifts himself up and just crawled up to lay face to face with dowoon. the latter's eyelids were also getting heavy, fluttering as he tries to keep staring at wonpil, there were no words exchanged, just the hum of the heater and the sound of them breathing almost alternately. their legs naturally intertwine under the duvet as wonpil wiggled his way closer to dowoon, finally closing his eyes when he feels a hand on his hip, patting lightly to a slow rhythm.

the next day, wonpil felt heavy but it was because of dowoon that kept squeezing him the whole night. now plastered on wonpil's back, showing no signs that he wants to let go, like a human plushie that keeps the nightmares away if you squeeze them enough. he spent minutes or an hour at most just playing with dowoon's hand, tracing the lines of his palm, holding them with two of his own.

dowoon wakes up with a grumble. then a kiss on wonpil's nape.


End file.
